


A Name. Just a Name.

by InvisibleInscriptions



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Character Analysis, Character Study, Other, no ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-10-22 00:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvisibleInscriptions/pseuds/InvisibleInscriptions
Summary: "The chilly whispers of the night’s wind broke the static grey stillness that the ever-watchful silver moon had cast upon this winter’s night. Even the sauntering dance of the light snow seemed to suspend itself in fear of breaking whatever spell the world was enchanted in.“Happy birthday to me,” Yukio broke the silence.....There were five times in Yukio’s life that he truly didn’t know who he was."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chaaaaraaaacttteeeer stuuudddiiieeees (written when I should be studying, studying)

The chilly whispers of the night’s wind broke the static grey stillness that the ever-watchful silver moon had cast upon this winter’s night. Even the sauntering dance of the light snow seemed to suspend itself in fear of breaking whatever spell the world was enchanted in.

 

No matter how much the night wanted to mourn, the wind still blew, and with it, the snow began to perform its ballet once more.

 

Yukio’s ocean eyes followed a particularly large snow flake as it became visible in the street lamp’s luminescence. Naturally, the flake eventually fell to the ground, ending its performance, and joining the pile of snow, now undisguisable from its brethren.

 

Letting himself slouch further down on the park bench he had taken to, Yukio let out a fatigued sigh, a puff of vapor visibly ghosting from his mouth.

 

Silence filled the air. Demanding. Prodding.

 

Seconds ticked by.

 

Minutes.

 

The night would not end.

 

“Happy birthday to me,” Yukio broke the silence, sitting up taller and throwing his head back on the bench. Looking up at the moon peaking between clouds as snowflakes melted on his face, Yukio recalled how he used to spend the nights of his birthday.    

 

They were rarely not accompanied with twisted feelings.

 

Glancing at an empty swing set, Yukio gave in repressing the thoughts that begged to be released.

 

There were five times in Yukio’s life that he truly didn’t know who he was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is very self indulgent

There were five times in Yukio’s life that he truly didn’t know who he was.

 

The first time happened in his classroom, in kindergarten at the age of 5. Yukio had been an eager child, ready to go to school and learn, maybe even make friends. Fujimoto had given both twins their primary education, which upon reflecting on it, Yukio could understand, but it had left the two of them having had little interaction with many children their age.

 

Yukio and Rin were in different classes, the school’s unspoken rule for twins, and naturally, Yukio felt apprehension about being separated from his brother. It was a strange feeling, Yukio remembered, he was eager, but also filled with nervous energy. It felt like the prelude to a wonderful sonata that was about to commence, but Yukio was the pianist sitting on the stool, rather than a spectator.

 

Rin, as if sensing Yukio’s nerves had gripped Yukio’s hand tightly as they walked off their bus and into the school.

 

“Don’t be scared, Yukio!” Rin and flashed a toothy grin at Yukio when they had reached their separate classes. “If anyone treats you bad, I’ll chase them down!”

 

“Father will be mad if you do that!” Yukio exclaimed, a worried expression forming on his face. If possible, Yukio wanted today to go well for them both. Rin had enough on his own plate to worry about. “I’ll be fine, okay?”

 

Ruffling Yukio’s chocolate-hair, Rin assured Yukio. “You are super smart already, you’ll be fine,” Rin crossed his arms with pride and huffed. “But me, I don’t really wanna read, I’m going to make friends, who needs books!”

 

“I’m going to make friends too!” Yukio’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights. “I’ll read books too!”

 

Rin scrunched his face up, “Fine, maybe I’ll read too, or you can read to me.”

 

“I will!” Yukio beamed, feeling confident. Rin’s faith in Yukio always did have a way of putting Yukio’s nerves to rest, or at least it always did at that age.

 

Their respective teachers had called their classes in and the brothers smiled at each other, one timid, and the other bright, one last time before they separated for the day.

 

Yukio took a seat on the carpet, near the teacher’s chair as unfamiliar faces began to fill in the spots around him. In Yukio’s eyes, they were all prospective friends; friends that could be his and made all on his own with no help.

 

“Hello class,” their teachers soothing low voice brought the children to their attention. He was an older, round, man with a winkled face that revealed years of laughter and smiles. “Let’s get to know each other, shall we? I’m Mr. Muramasa, and I like to spend time with my daughter. You are?” his warm brown eyes looked down towards a girl with bright red hair tied up into curly pigtails.

 

“Oh, uh,” she stuttered, her green eyes growing wide and her freckled cheeks turning pink, “I am Misaki Nanami and I like to play tag with my big brother.”

 

Yukio smiled. He also liked to play tag with his brother. Well, at least when it didn’t end with Yukio either being pranked or tripping. Rin was the family trickster.  

 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Misaki. Who are you?” The teacher looked to another child.

 

Each child introduced themselves and Yukio felt his heart swell with anticipation at when his own turn would come. Yukio rehearsed what he would say in his head over and over. This would be his chance! He was Okumura Yukio and he liked to read to his brother and father. He was Okumura Yukio and he liked to read to his brother and father. He was Okamura Yukio and liked to-

 

“Very interesting, Mr. Fumushi, I liked to play soccer too, but not in the rain. Now, lastly but surly not least, who are you?” Mr. Muramasa’s tender smile directed itself to Yukio.

 

Yukio’s heart began to race as he tried to contain himself. “I’m Okumura Yukio!” Yukio smiled brightly, “and I like to read to- AHHHHHH,” Yukio suddenly wailed, scurrying backward.

 

A deformation grew like a cloud, bulging grotesquely in clumps, before taking a visible shape.  Atop Mr. Muramasa’s head, a creature had appeared. It resembled puppy, when it took form, but its mouth was snapped open as wide as an alligator and pools of blood and bright red eyeballs seeped from its mouth like an endless river. Soon, the professors face was covered the blood like substance while the eyeballs drizzled down his clothing.

 

Yukio’s breathing became uneven as he shut his eyes away from the creature.

 

Yukio hated the creatures, he hated them with every ounce of his being! They wouldn’t leave him alone, they followed him! They wanted to get him and mostly-

 

Nobody else was afraid of them. Nobody at the church ever seemed to mind them. Rin was never bothered by them. Yukio was clearly just being a baby. But, they kept coming, and Yukio couldn’t, he couldn’t-

 

“Mr. Okumura?” the teacher’s voice was filled with concern as he stood up from his chair, alarmed by Yukio’s sudden cry.

 

As the teacher moved, the creature on his head leaped from his head, stalking towards Yukio with its fountain continuing to pour from its mouth. The smell was revolting, like dead insects and vomit. Yukio couldn’t describe it well, but he could feel, feel that the creature wanted to do bad things to Yukio.

 

Yukio bit his lip, face as white as a sheet and his heart hammering painfully in his ears. Nobody else was crying or screaming, they were all much stronger than he was. The only reason it was after him was because it knew that Yukio was scared, that’s how monsters worked, right? Yukio needed to get a grip, if he didn’t, everyone would think he was a weakling.

 

The creature stepped forward.

 

Its goo dripped on Yukio’s leg.

 

Yukio burst into tears, screaming and kicking at the creature. The girl to the left in front of him, Nanami, backed away from Yukio, bewilderment clear in her forest eyes.

 

Yukio’s heart sank at the look, guilt filled every pore of his being. She wasn’t afraid, she was stronger than Yukio was. Yukio was making a fool of himself.

 

The creature walked right through her, it didn’t want her, she was better than it.

 

Knowing this didn’t stop Yukio from standing up and bolting from the room, getting away from the foul creature. He needed to run, needed to get away from it, or else it would do bad things!

 

Yukio ran out of the classroom, into the hall. He continued to run, legs refusing to stop. Finally, Yukio stopped, his 5-year-old stamina up, and painful wheezed as he hazily looked around at his surroundings.

 

The halls of the school were a maze. Yukio could not tell where he had come from, what turns he had made, and so, Yukio was completely and utterly, lost.

 

And alone.

 

Sobbing, Yukio collapsed to the ground. Tucking himself against the wall, he hugged his knees as tremors shook through his body. Yukio was unaware if he was crying from fear, or from the idea that due to his outburst, he had proved himself unworthy in the eyes of his classmates.  

 

When he lifted his head from his shell, it was because he smelled it again, the smell of rot.

 

Quivering life a leaf, Yukio peered over his keens and saw, yet another creature. Five to be exact. These ones looked like disfigured birds, with wings in the shape of three pointed prongs and protruded eyes. They were small, only about an inch tall, but they seemed gargantuan to Yukio.

 

They formed a circle around Yukio, like predator stalking its prey.

 

Yukio wanted to scream, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t make a sound. Instead, his lips parted open in a silent scream as his back stood up as straight as a leaf.

 

He wanted his brother and father, the bad creatures didn’t like them. They left Yukio alone when they were together. Yukio couldn’t do this by himself.

 

“Okumura Yukio!” Mr. Muramusa called, running down the hallway, right passed the monsters, and to Yukio. “Are you alright?”

 

Yukio sniffed and cleared the snot running down his nose, but he broke into a sob a moment after. The monsters backed away, disinterest.

 

Shame descended upon Yukio as he looked to his teacher. After large, uneven breaths, Yukio looked up at his teacher, with pleading eyes. He had misbehaved and done wrong. “P-plea-se d-don’t tell d-dad or my b-b-rother about,” Yukio lifted his glasses above his head and whipped his eyes dry, “t-this. It’s w-won’t h-happen again. I’ll… be stronger.”

 

Mr. Muramasa put a gentle hand on Yukio’s shoulder, but there was confusion in his eyes. “Don’t worry, we all are scared on our first day of school. I’m sure all the other children understand. Alright, Mr. Okumura? Let’s get back to class, now.”

 

The teacher offered his hand, Yukio didn’t want to take it, but he did anyways. Together, they made their way back to class and Yukio couldn’t help but to feel like a dog being leashed back by its owner after misbehaving.

 

When Yukio entered the class again, the kids looked at him incredulously. Their eyes followed Yukio as he sat down at the carpet, now at the back.

 

“Alright, now, let’s talk about what we did over the summer.” Mr. Muramasa clapped his hands together cheerily.

 

Yukio couldn’t focus on the teacher. Drawing his knees in, Yukio drowned in guilt. Occasionally, a few children would look back at Yukio with disturbed glances.

 

Small little black dots flew around the classroom, little monsters, Yukio called them. They didn’t do much, didn’t have the scary presence that the other monsters had, but right now, Yukio couldn’t take his eyes off them.

 

“Don’t talk to that one, he’s a weirdo,” the boy in front of him whispered to his friend. “Do you see the way his eyes are looking around the room? Weirdo.”

 

Yukio fought back tears. “Why isn’t anyone else afraid?” Yukio muttered to himself.

 

Today, he wouldn’t be making any friends.

 

Later that day, at the dinner table, Fujimoto had asked the twins how their first days had been. Rin confessed that during a game of tag he tackled a classmate and they ended up getting into a fist fight. Fujimoto sighed and scolded Rin, telling him that at the pace Rin was going at, Fujimoto would be going bald soon.

 

“At least both of you aren’t rug rats, right, Yukio?” Fujimoto grinned at Yukio

 

When Yukio’s father had turned to ask Yukio how his day had been, Yukio’s breath quickened before he calmed it into a smile.

 

“It went fine, father.” Yukio said plainly before returning to his food. “Nothing much happened….” Yukio poked at his food with his fork, his legs trembling at the lie.

 

“That’s good to hear,” Fujimoto nodded, pride evident in his voice.

 

Yukio’s smile wavered.

 

-

 

The next day was no better for Yukio. He awoke to a large bad like creature bearing its fangs in his face, Yukio had screamed, and on his way to school, he saw shadowy snakes on the ceiling of his bus.

 

“I’ll make friends today for sure!” Rin punched the air before walking into his class.

 

Yukio clutched the strap of his bag tightly. “Me too,” he said to himself with as much conviction as he could muster. Today, he would not let the monsters bother him.

 

The morning portion of class had gone over well. Yukio had seen ants the size of his chair meander in and out of the classroom, but Yukio had fought back his fears. Mr. Muramasa had been impressed with the level of reading that Yukio was capable of and Yukio felt proud of himself.

 

However, recess brought trouble just as bees are attracted to flowers. 

 

It was a sunny day out, but the weather was still slightly cool regardless. The class had organized, with the help of Mr. Muramasa, a game of hide and go seek. Yukio had been found early on, and so he sat on semi-wet grass along with all the other kids who had already been found.

 

The red-haired fair girl, Misaki Nanami, sat beside Yukio. She glanced at him, opening her mouth, then closing it. After a few try’s, she finally asked what was on her mind. “What made you scream like that, yesterday?” Nanami asked, her pigtails bobbing as her head tilted in question. “That cry you gave was almost as bad as my baby sister!”

 

“Oh uh,” Yukio felt his cheeks redden, “I was scared.”

 

“Scared of saying your name and what you like?” She asked in confusion while fixing her purple skirt. “That’s not a very good thing to fear.”

 

“Not that!” Yukio grew defensive. “I’m not good at dealing with the monsters!”

 

“Monsters?” Nanami’s voice grew high in disbelieving. “What monsters? I don’t see any monsters.”

 

“That’s just what I called them,” Yukio explained, “they are those black things in the sky behind you.”

 

The girl turned around, putting her hand on her hips as she observed the sky with scrutiny. Definitively, she turned back to Yukio and shook her head. “No little black monsters in the sky, not that I can see.”

 

Yukio raised an eyebrow. “What about that laughing rock over there?”

 

“Are you crazy? My mommy told me about people like you!” The girl put her hands to her face in realization. “Mr.Muramasa, Yuki is crazy!”

 

“That’s not a nice thing to say.” The teacher walked over to the two, his head shaking in disapproval. “We don’t all others crazy, miss.”

 

“He says he can see monsters!” She protested. “That’s crazy! My mommy told me that monsters aren’t real and that’s why we never actually see them.”

 

Yukio puffed his cheeks out. Why didn’t anyone get what he was saying? “You can see them, can’t you, teacher?”

 

“Mr. Okumura, monsters aren’t real. You are just imagining things, don’t worry about them.” A serene smile graced his gentle face. “It’s good to have an active imagination, though. I’m sure these sorts of things are common for bright children, like yourself.”

 

Yukio blushed, but didn’t respond. Was he just imagining things? Looking up at the sky, Yukio regarded the black little monsters floating in packs. They swarmed around his teacher, around Nanami, and all his other classmates. No matter how Yukio saw it, they were there. He could feel them, smell them, even hear them, so they had to be real, right?

 

 

After Mr. Muramasa left, Yukio turned to Nanami. In a shy voice, Yukio asked, “Can you really not see them?”

 

“Duh, I can’t! They aren’t there! Even teacher said so!”

 

Yukio watched a frog monster leap unto her head, and Yukio shrivelled back, feeling confused and disoriented.

 

That afternoon, Yukio had wet himself in class after he couldn’t hold back his terror any longer. The set off had been a monster the size of a cat with three heads that did not commensurate.

 

On his way home that day, two boys from class had found him waiting for his bus. Rin had gone to use the bathroom, and so Yukio was left alone. At first Yukio thought it was coincidence that they were waiting near him, despite them being on different buses.

 

However, when one of the boys, Tsukki, had pushed Yukio and then spit on him, Yukio knew that they had come for him.

 

“Karasu, this guy thinks monsters are real!” Tsukki laughed, pointing at Yukio.

 

Yukio swallowed thickly, fear sending his blood running cold.

 

“He keeps randomly screaming during class, it’s freaky!” Karasu stepped on Yukio, who coughed in response. “Crazy kid!”

 

Yukio struggled, trying to push Karasu’s foot off. “Let go of me!”

 

The two boys laughed and Karasu put more weight onto his foot. Their smiles were sadistic and they looked upon Yukio as though he were dirt on their shoe.

 

Yukio felt pain shoot through his body as he squirmed. Hot tears burned his vision. The two boys were much stronger than he was.

 

“Crazy, crazy, crazy, nerd!” The two jeered.

 

“GET AWAY FROM MY LITTLE BROTHER!” Rin’s thunderous roar boomed as he small boy tackled the two boys away from Yukio. “HOW DARE YOU!”

 

Yukio sat up, coughing. Rin continued to pound the two, fury clear in his sky-blue eyes. Yukio wanted to do something, but he couldn’t. He was powerless.

 

And apparently, crazy, too.

 

Who would want to be friends with a crazy person?

 

“I’m sorry,” Yukio told Rin as they entered the bus together. “I don’t want you to fight and get hurt. I don’t like it when you’re hurt.”

 

Rin punched Yukio’s shoulder, and smiled as bright as the sun. “And I don’t like it when they pick on you! I’ll punch them as many times as I need to!”

 

At that moment, Rin looked like a brave, honourable knight, in Yukio’s mind. Never did Yukio think that he would relate to the captive princesses in stories.

 

It was Friday, during lunch, that Yukio was sent to the office for reasons unknown to him.

 

When he arrived, the lady at the desk pointed him to another lady, clad in a pink formal dress, who had apparently needed to talk to him. Yukio tightened his hands into a fist, his face taking on a worried expression.

 

“Don’t worry, we are going to talk, that’s it. Come with me,” she informed Yukio as she walked towards an office behind the desk.

 

The room she leads Yukio into was a plain office. The desk was large and atop it were stacks of paper, arranged rather messily, and some photos of the lady and a little boy. 

 

Ever watchful, the lady took a seat on her swivel chair and smiled amiably, perhaps too amiably, at Yukio. “He’s my son, just a bit older than you, I would guess. How old are you, Mr. Okumura?”

 

Yukio seated himself on a black chair on the opposite side from the lady. Looking anywhere but at her face, he twiddled his thumbs. A dark cloud began to form around Yukio’s thoughts as he questioned what he had done to be singled out like this. “Five years old,” Yukio answered, although he thought she already knew as she already knew his name without Yukio telling.

 

Eyes darting of a translucent nameplate, Yukio pronounced what he assumed to be her name in his mind. B-y-a-k-u-r-a  F-u-m-i-k-o

 

“Ah yes, my daughter is only a year older than you, in that case,” Fumiko laced her fingers together and placed them on her desk. “Mr. Okamura, let’s play a game, shall we? Do you like games?”

 

Yukio looked up timidly at the lady, her eyes seeming to peer into his soul. “I, uh, yes, I do?”

Fumiko tapped her index finder, painted pink, to her lip in thought. “Let’s see… how about you guess my name then?” the women’s grin grew, crinkling her eyes, and Yukio didn’t know if it were possible for someone to smile this much.

 

“Ms. Byakura, Byakura Fumiko, yes? Did I s-say that right?” Yukio tried to find his voice.

 

“Why yes you did!” Fumiko beamed, her eyes smiling as well. Yukio couldn’t help but feel slightly unnerved at her staged response. “Why do you say Ms, if I may ask.”

 

“I, uh,” Yukio felt the palms of his hands begin to grow clammy, “um, if I was wrong, I’m sorry- “

 

“No, you aren’t wrong, I just want to know why you thought that,” she clarified, running a finger though her curled brown hair.

 

Yukio took in a deep breath, feeling small in the chair that was much too big for him. Trying to seem taller, Yukio stretched his feet, but they still were unable to touch the floor. Summoning confidence, Yukio answered, “You had a picture of your daughter, but no other pictures, and you have no ring, so…”

 

The women hummed and took out a piece of paper. She began to jot down some notes and Yukio then understood that this was a test. The boy didn’t know what the test meant, or why he was being tested, but he understood that she was writing down something about him.

 

“Yukio,” Fumiko’s honeyed voice broke Yukio from his thoughts, “let’s play another game. I’m going to tell you a story, and then you have to answer some questions, alright?”

 

Evening out his breathing, Yukio nodded. If this was a test, he had to pass.

 

“Let’s say I put ice cream on the kitchen counter, and then later, it’s become like water, what happened to the ice cream?”  She told the story as she continued to jot down notes, her pen moving fluidly over the paper, and it was only at the end of her tale that she looked up, her toffy coloured eyes meeting Yukio.

 

Yukio replayed the story in his head before he replied, “It melted and turned into something that looked like a milkshake, not water?”

 

Fumiko laughed, the sound high pitched and reminding Yukio of a chirping bid. Yukio felt the blood rush to his face and he squeezed his hands together to prevent trembling. Worried that he had said the wrong answer, an apology was fresh on his tongue, but he was cut off by Fumiko.

 

“What do these three have in common, a swing, a ball, and a slide?”

 

“You can play with them and you can play with them alone?” Yukio responded.

 

The questions went on for a while, Yukio wasn’t sure how long. There were a lot of questions and Yukio’s head was starting to feel heavy. At some point, she produced blocks from a drawer and asked Yukio to copy the pictures she showed him. As Yukio concentrated, she took notes, making Yukio feel rather pressured. Eventually, she stopped him, just as he was completing the fourth picture and gave him some snacks.

 

As Yukio ate, she continued to write, the silence causing Yukio to feel like a specimen under a microscope.

 

It was after Yukio took the last bite of his apple that it appeared; the monsters were back. Yukio swallowed the apple abruptly, the sharp bits traveling down his throat unpleasantly. Colour draining from his face, Yukio tried to look away from the sludge ball moving through the window, but even with his eyes shut as tight as possible, Yukio couldn’t ignore the pungent odor that filled the room and he couldn’t tune his ears from the slurping noises it produced as it rolled across the floor.

 

Yukio bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood. As the taste of iron filled Yukio’s senses he told himself that it wasn’t real.

 

The monster rolled under his chair, and Yukio could feel its slimy texture mere centimetres away from where his shoes ended. Gulping down a scream, Yukio began to quiver. He couldn’t let the lady know that he was insane, Yukio repeated to himself over and over.

 

“Are you alright?” Her voice was laced with concern as she looked upon Yukio who had gone as white as snow and trembled like a leaf on a stormy autumn’s day.

 

Yukio opened his mouth slowly, using all his will power, but just as he was about to form a syllable, he felt the creature stick unto his shoe and roll up his jeans.

 

It felt raw, sticky, and Yukio couldn’t stop himself from kicking his leg in terror. The goo ball flew across the room, landing on the adjacent wall with a splat. Then it began to tumble down the wall, leaving a trail of slime in its wake, as it rolled towards Yukio once more, but faster this time.

 

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Yukio began to sob, hiccups escaping his mouth. “It’s not real! It’s… n-not r-r-real!”  Yukio covered his ears and shook his head with vigor.

 

Fumiko continued to take notes, but spoke as she did. “Yukio, what’s wrong?”

 

The goo ball was under Yukio’s chair once more. Yukio jumped out of his chair and ran to the door. His legs too weak to stand, Yukio fell to the floor as he hung off the door knob. “G-g-go away!!!”

 

“Yukio, take deep breaths,” Fumiko couched down on eye level with Yukio.

 

A sob shook through Yukio as he began to pound the door helplessly. He tried taking deep breaths, but each one shook like a tornado through his body and his lungs were burned like acid.

 

The monster rolled towards Yukio, who was now on the floor, and Yuko scrambled across the floor to get away. He could see it clearly now, it had one eye, one red eye, and it reflected Yukio’s face.

 

Yukio saw himself in its single eye. Saw himself decapitated.

 

“Okumura Yukio!” Fumiko cried as Yukio scurried under her desk like a mouse, moving with the haste of a stalked prey. She shook her head as Yukio cried loud, at a loss as to what to do. “Close your eyes and count to ten. Just focus on counting, nothing but the counting.”

 

Fumiko’s words were white noise to Yukio’s ears. The only sound that penetrated to Yukio’s brain was the sound of squishes and slurps as the monster rolled around the room, looking for Yukio.

 

The goo left behind the monster’s movements began to take form, turning into smaller creatures themselves. They rolled, around the room, like drones, looking for Yukio.

 

Yukio pushed himself further into the corner of his desk, his mind pleading for help.

 

The monster seeped through the desk, just as it had gotten in through the window.

 

“DAAAAAD!!!! BRROOTHER!!!!” Yukio screamed with such ferocity that he felt that his throat would bleed. “MAKE THEM GO AWAY! THEY WON’T LEAVE ME ALONE! I’M NOT CRAZY!”

 

Fumiko sighed as she picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Hello? You are the teacher of Okumura Rin, correct? Could you send him to my room please? His brother needs him. Yes, then, send him as soon as possible.”

 

Yukio scurried out from under the desk once the monsters had fully occupied his haven.   Vision growing hazy and eyes hurting from the tears, Yukio was ready to give in. His body was no longer listening to him, his legs numb, and Yukio was trapped in the room.

 

The monsters had been with Yukio all his life, but they didn’t come to the monastery. When Yukio played outside, he would see them, but there had always been places to run to. If the time came where Yukio had nowhere to run, his father would be there, or his brother, or the clergy men, and they monster didn’t like them.

 

Now, Yukio was alone and helpless.

 

“I’m w-w-weak,” Yukio muttered to himself through sobs as he lay on the floor, defeated. “I’m c-c-c-cra-z-zy… an’ w-weak-”

 

“Yukio!” a familiar voice sounded though the room, the door opening with a loud thud.

 

Instantaneously, Yukio sprung to his feet, like a dead man given a second life, and ran into Rin’s arms. Sobbing violently, Yukio buried himself into Rin’s shirt, getting snot and tears on him.

 

Inhaling, Yukio took in the scent of his brother, the smell calming Yukio better than any counting technique.

 

Rin put a protective arm around Yukio and bared his teeth at Fumiko. “Bitch! What did you do to my brother!”

 

“We don’t speak like that!” Fumiko looked aghast. “I didn’t harm your brother, I promise you. Does this happen often?”

 

Skeptical, Rin held Yukio tighter, soothing the vicious tremors that shook through Yukio. Rin’s heart pained as he put an assuring hand on Yukio’s hair. Rin had seen Yukio scared before, but never this badly. The younger twin clung to his brother as though he was falling off a boat and Rin was his lifeline. It had to have been something that this woman did, it was the only idea that Rin had that made sense.

 

“Yukio gets scared a lot, but this is the worst I’ve see’ him!” Rin growled before he spoke in a gentler tone. “Yukio, are you ‘kay? What’s wrong? I’ll beat her up if she hurt you!”

 

Yukio shook his head into Rin’s shirt, unable to speak.

 

“Did she say somethin’ to you that hurt your feelings?” Rin ran a hand through Yukio’s hair. Yukio didn’t remove himself from Rin’s shirt but he shook his head once more in response, his breaths becoming steadier.

 

“You need to tell me what’s wrong, Yukio so I can make it better!”

 

Yukio peered up and looked around the room. The creature had left, Yukio was safe. “You already did,” Yukio croaked, his voice hoarse from screaming. “Don’t leave me alone, please,” Yukio smiled weakly.

 

“How about you two go wait at the front in the office. School will be over soon, but both of you don’t need to go back to class. In fact, I’ll call your father here. I need to speak to him, anyways. Rin, take care of Yukio, okay?” Fumiko excused the two as she picked up the phone, presumably to call Fujimoto.

 

Rin held Yukio’s hand as they left the room, Rin casting a suspicious glare at Fumiko once more before he left.

 

Yukio had calmed down, hiccuping only occasionally as he sat on the office waiting chairs for their father to come pick them up. Now that he was safe, shame once more fell upon Yukio as his face grew pink with embarrassment.

 

“I’m useless,” Yukio mumbled to himself silently as he sunk into his chair.

 

Rin, unaware of Yukio’s mumbling, began to speak to distract Yukio from his prior distress. “Hey, Yukio, do you think that lady you were with had a big butt?”

 

“I didn’t look at her butt. You shouldn’t look at peoples’ butts, brother,” Yukio found his voice, though he spoke in a hushed tone. Truthfully, Yukio was grateful for the distraction.

 

Rin puffed out his chubby cheeks. “Dad looks at butts all the time!”

 

“Ahh!” Yukio made a hushing motion with his hands, “not so loud, we are in a quiet place!”

 

Rin laughed loudly. “There’s no rule to be quiet here!”

 

“Shush,” the receptionist hissed at the twins.

 

“See!” Yukio put his face in his palms and shook his head in disapproval. “Now we are in trouble!”

 

Rin shrugged his shoulders and hit Yukio’s arm playfully. “Dad said they make you sit in the office when you get in trouble, so we already are doing that. What more can they do to us?”

 

“That’s not a good way for a 5-year-old to think, good grief,” Fujimoto’s entered the room. Rin smiled upon hearing the voice and gave Fujimoto a thumb up. “We get to leave early today!”

 

Scratching his head in an exasperated motion, Fujimoto sighed. Walking to the front desk, he motioned for Yukio and Rin to stay put as he talked to the receptionist. Yukio couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Fujimoto soon left the room, Fumiko beckoning him to come into her office with a wave of her hand.

 

As soon as Fujimoto left their eyes, Rin nudged Yukio. “See, he totally was looking at her butt!”

 

“Shhh!” The receptionist barked once more.

 

Yukio smiled at that, a warm feeling spreading though his body.

 

“Wonder what their talking about in there?” Rin crossed his arms in thought. 

 

Then, Yukio frowned again.

 

“Is this about Rin’s fighting?” Fujimoto closed his eyes in acceptance as he took a seat across from Fumiko, away from Yukio and Rin. “He’s a good kid, got too much spunk, but he will learn.”

 

“Actually,” Fumiko crossed her legs formally, “this isn’t about Rin. I called you here today to discuss Yukio.”

 

Fujimoto’s eyes widened at that and he stroked his chin in thought. “Really, Yukio? He’s a well-behaved boy, timid, but he follows rules. I thought he would do well in a school environment.”

 

“Yes, he is a well-behaved boy, an exceptionally smart boy. Today, we got though half of a psychology test with him, in fact. His teacher had recommended Yukio for the test for several reasons, you see.” Fumiko leaned back in her chair, a frown painting her fuchsia lips. 

 

Fujimoto crossed his arms with pride. “How did he do? With a pretty lady like yourself monitoring him, I’m sure he was in great care.”

 

“Yes about that,” Fumiko sighed. “We didn’t get to finish the test, and the results still need to be analyzed, but I assure you, his score so far is well in the range for a gifted child. Yukio is gifted.”

 

“That’s good news, but I take it from your tone that there is more,” Fujimoto’s tone grew serious.

 

Fumiko rocked in his chair slightly. “Yes, you see, the reason why we had him take this test was for two main reasons. One reason, was that his teacher noticed his exceptional intellect. The second, was because…”

 

“Go on,” Fujimoto made a bridge with his fingers and rested his chin on it.

 

“Yukio spontaneously screams and bursts into tears in class. While this is common behavior for a five-year-old, Yukio is an extreme case. Just this week alone he has run out of class four times, screaming as though he is about to be killed. Moreover, the teacher overheard him say that he can see monsters.

 

Truthfully, we only got half way through the test because Yukio began to scream, with nothing to prompt him, and ran to the door. After breaking down at the door, he ran across the room and hid under my desk. Truly, his distress was so great that I think he could not hear my voice. Eventually, he cried for his brother, and you, and after calling Rin, Yukio calmed down. Either way, this is abnormal behavior. Is he like this at home, I-”Fumiko lost her train of thought as a chill ran through her spine.

 

Fujimoto’s eyes were dark and cold, nothing like the bright, bosting father, he had been when he entered. If Fumiko didn’t know any better, she would say the tension radiating off his shoulders almost spelled danger.

 

Then, within seconds, it was gone.

 

“My Yukio has always been a timid kid, afraid of the dark and monsters,” if Fujimoto could smoke in a school, he would have taken a long drag from his cigarette. “They grew up in a church and didn’t play much with other kids. Grew an imagination, if I had to guess.”

 

Fumiko jotted the information down.

 

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Fujimoto announced with finality. “Let’s talk later, I’m sure the stress on Yukio today has been a lot.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Fumiko nodded. “We will talk later. Also, we are likely going to call in another psychologist to look at him, alright?”

 

“Sure,” Fujimoto waved and exited.

 

Yukio and Rin, who had been waiting, had begun to play a game of sticks as Fujimoto reappeared.

 

“Let’s go, you two,” Fujimoto gestured for the two to follow as he walked out the door. Rin sprung to his feet, bouncing with energy, as Yukio followed close behind, steps hesitant, but no longer shaking.

 

The ride home was filled with Fujimoto and Rin bickering, but Yukio wasn’t listening. Instead, he watched the scenery go by, the tiny monsters littering the path and clogging up the sky. Yukio imagined what it would be like to be someone else and see the world without the creatures.

 

Yukio thought it would look beautiful.

 

For the rest of the night, Yukio was unable to maintain eye contact with Fujimoto in fear of what Fujimoto thought of him. Ms. Byakura had most likely told him of how insane Yukio was, and Yukio knew that he had let his father down somehow.

 

That night, after Rin had fallen asleep, Fujimoto entered their bedroom. Yukio was awake, watching the few tiny black monsters fly around the ceiling. Their house was safe, so only few monsters ever got in, and they were usually the harmless ones. The week’s frenzy played itself over and over in Yukio’s mind.

 

Fujimoto sat on Yukio’s bed, Yukio could tell by the depress of the comforter.

 

“Yukio, I heard about what’s been happening in school,” Fujimoto spoke in a deep tone.

 

Tears welled up in Yukio’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m not mad, but I wish you would have told me about this. You said school was going fine, want to tell me the truth now?”

 

Yukio bit back the lump in his throat. “I haven’t made any friends. People don’t like me. They beat me up because they think I’m crazy and weak. They say I’m not supposed to know how to read, not supposed to have glasses, moles, and not supposed to see things. Brother beats them up to save me.”

 

“They are jealous of how smart you are, don’t let them bother you, Yukio. I’ll deal with Rin another day. Know that you are fine the way you are. Tell me, what things do you see?” Fujimoto kept his tone level.

 

Yukio turned towards his father, his eyes full of emotion and pain. “I see monsters. I used to think that everyone could see them and that they only bothered me because I’m weak. They stay away from you, and the others, and brother. My classmates told me that there were no monsters.” A tear slipped from Yukio’s eyes and he brushed it away quickly. “I don’t like the monsters,” Yukio’s voice cracked. 

 

Fujimoto stood up. “Monsters feed off fear, Yukio, don’t let them know your scared.”

 

With those words hanging in the air, Fujimoto silently left the room.

 

Tears streamed down Yukio’s face, the raindrops wetting his sheets. Burying his head into his pillow, Yukio felt helpless.

 

He couldn’t stop being afraid of them.

 

He was insane.

 

He was helpless.

 

“Why me? Who am I?” Yukio sniffed, his voice muffled by the pillow.

 

Rin, sleeping like a log, heard nothing of his brother’s troubles.

 

The door slightly parted, Fujimoto pulled his hair lightly and leaned against the wall, feeling conflicted as his son cried himself to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean I would think that Yukio might have not known not everyone could see demons until he spoke to other kids. I doubt he spoke to Rin about it and Fujimoto might not have known either because he didn't offer Yukio for training, or ward him or anything, until he started his training.


	3. Chapter 3

Yukio stood up from the icy bench, his nose and ears sufficiently painted rosy red from winter’s touch. Pulling up his white scarf, he shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk. 

The walk was aimless, a pursuit uncharacteristic for Yukio Okumura. However, his gut twisted with memories, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. The sight of the park, the empty swing, was too familiar to his short-lived youth for Yukio to bear looking at it. 

As Yukio walked, smaller demons bustled high in the night sky. Today was a day of celebration for the demons, after all. It was the anniversary of Satan gracing the Earth. The coal tar, the demon’s Yukio had once called, ‘little monster’s,’ were unimportant, but Yukio couldn’t help but feel as though the demons were watching him from above, trying to pressure him to do something, but Yukio didn’t know what. He had grown long accustomed to the piercing stare of a demon’s eyes, since they had been creeping around every corner since Yukio could remember. 

Demons had eyes alight with energy. Energy that burned, burned a scorching volcanic heat, but could also burn a searing cold. 

Eyes like his brothers. 

Blue, like the endless oceans of earth and blue like the flames that had consumed the world on this very night sixteen years ago. 

Yukio paused his rhythmic pacing and placed his gloved hands unconsciously under his own eyes. Rin’s eyes were such a shade of blue, alike and unlike Yukio’s own. 

The ashen road seemed to dullen as Yukio turned and looked where he had come from. The road behind was an endless snake, crossing over infinite hills, but the path never branched. Yukio didn’t recall when he had strayed off the street paths and entered this maze. 

Gazing at the road, Yukio couldn’t suppress the unsettling memories from resurfacing once more. 

There were five times in Yukio’s life that he truly didn’t know who he was. 

-

There were five times in Yukio’s life that he truly didn’t know who he was. 

The second time happened the night of December 28th, a day after Yukio had celebrated his 7th birthday. Well, ‘celebrated’ was a figure of speech. The twins always celebrated their birthdays synonymously with Christmas. 

It was a snowy day outside, as to be expected of the season. A blanket of white warmed the world as Yukio and Rin bundled up in a ridiculous amount of clothing before heading outside to play in the snow. 

Fujimoto had taken his camera out, taking a picture of the twins, who looked like they were each hiding another twin inside their oversized coats. Rin smiled his usually dazzling grin and Yukio his fretful smile, but after Fujimoto had pestered too many pictures, Rin stuck his tongue out and ran out into the snows embrace. 

Yukio frowned at the disrespect, but then smiled somewhat fondly at the familiar behaviour of his brother. 

“That one’s a hand full. One day we won’t all be together and then you’ll want these photos, trust me, right Yukio?” Fujimoto stepped out the door and into the white world, taking out a cigarette from his pocket. 

Yukio stepped outside with him, although it would be better described as a waddle. “We have lots of time to take more photos, though,” Yukio replied with as much sagacity as a 7-year-old could muster. “I want to play in the snow now too.” 

Fujimoto blinked at the sparkle in Yukio’s eyes as he looked more eager to jump in the snow than he did to open presents on Christmas day. Then, Fujimoto smiled wistfully. “Your name does mean ‘man of snow,’ of course you like snow. Go crazy.” 

“Yes!” Yukio beamed, waddling as fast as possible to catch up with Rin, who had found a patch of ice and was squiggling back and forth on it.

Yukio, ignorant to the ice, had ran over with haste, and soon found himself soaring ungracefully in the air, landing face first into the snow. 

Rin chortled a grand laugh at Yukio’s fall. 

Lifting his face, now red, from the ground, Yukio blinked hazily at the world though his watery glasses. “It’s not funny, brother!” 

Rin shrugged, offering Yukio a hand to get up. Pulling the younger twin up, Rin flicked him on the forehead. “It kind of was.” 

Puffing out his cheeks, Yukio crossed his arms. “Let’s go to the park. There is more open field there to use to make a snowman.”

Rin nodded with vigor. “We’re going to build a huge snowman and name it Yukio! We’ll put three moles, glasses, and paint it’s face red- “ 

“Hey!” Yukio sputtered, face turning cherry red. 

Running towards the park, Rin grinned victoriously. “See my point!”

“Wait for me!” Yukio called after Rin, chasing after him. It wasn’t as though Yukio was necessarily unfit, but he was more fragile than most. By the time they got to the park, Rin had caught his breath and was ready to begin building. 

Yukio, on the other hand, began to cough. The dry air that winter brought had always not agreed well with his lungs, even more so when he ran. It wasn’t alarming and Yukio could probably ignore it, but he rather wait for it to settle down.

Taking a seat on the hill of the field, Yukio caught his breath. If experience was anything to go by, he would be fine in several minutes, once the watery mucus in his lungs decided to cooperate. It wasn’t asthma, per say, it was something else with a long name. Exercised-induced- bronchoconstriction, if Yukio remembered correctly. 

Rin was used to Yukio needing to stop and take a breather after running, so he began to form a snowball on his own. 

In the meantime, Yukio piled snow on the ground together. The texture of the snow was just right for making a snowman, it was wet, but not too wet, and very sticky. 

“Look it’s the ‘loany’ boy!” a boy, much too big for any normal 7-year-old, strutted up the hill to Yukio, like a bear growing larger and larger as it stocked its prey. 

Yukio’s heart sank as he skittered back, fear prickling his skin. 

He was looking forward to playing in the snow today. 

“’Loany’ boy Okumura Yuki-chan! Such a baby, I wonder if he’s really a man!” another boy, not large in stature, but certainly in ego, crooned behind the taller boy. 

Yukio looked defiantly, off to the side. “It’s pronounced loony, not loany.” Surprised at his own tone, Yukio sorely wished that he had the strength to look the boys straight in the eye. Yukio knew what was coming. He told himself to spit on their faces, to growl at them, like Rin does when people want to mess with him. 

However, when the large boot comes crashing down on Yukio’s skull, he cowers and covers his head with his hands for protection, squeezing into a tiny ball. 

The impact was harsh, but underneath the layers of pain that came from the throbbing sensation, Yukio could only feel bitter spite. In a feeble attempt to help himself, Yukio reached for the pant leg of the smaller boy who had the most practiced sadistic smirk plastered on his face, but his hands shook weakly and the two laughed at Yukio’s attempt. 

Condescendingly, as the larger boy continued to pound at Yukio’s back, jeering insults like “Crazy, nerd, moley-”the smaller male bent down next to Yukio. 

In a sweet tone, he cooed, “Poor little Yuki. Too weak to do anything without your brother. Guess the genepool gave the worst of it to you, even though both of you have a horrible personality.” 

Yukio thought of Rin, his brother who, for all his fangs and glares, looked at Fujimoto, Yukio, and the rest of the monastery with pure love in his eyes. Rin, who didn’t care about smacking people who harassed others, and getting smacked in return. Rin who selflessly loved those who did no wrong. Rin, who cared not about praise, but followed his heart, simple minded, innocent, but also, strong in a way that Yukio was not. 

As though summoned by his thoughts, Rin’s battle cry greeted Yukio’s ears as the rhythmic kicks stopped. 

“It’s the demon kid!” the shorter boy pointed accusingly. “Time to go!” 

They two boys scurried away, Rin throwing snowballs at them with a snarl. “Yeah you better run!” Rin crushed the final snowball in his hand after the two boys were far out of sight, anger seething in his eyes. “They don’t know when to quit. Call me a demon?” Rin huffed, “what do they know?” 

Recovering from his monologue, Rin turned around to face Yukio with a kind hand stretched out. “You okay, Yukio?”

Yukio bit his lip, the iron taste of blood mixed with the cold air causing Yukio to feel sick. They were right, Yukio was as useless as a sheet of wet paper and just as strong as one. Rin always had to come to his rescue. Yukio loved Rin, he truly did. He wished for Rin to never get hurt, wanted to help Rin in anyways, but…. It was infuriating.

Helpless. Weak. 

“What’s wrong? Did they hurt you bad? Want me to help you up-“ 

Cowardly. Hesitant.

Yukio.

Yukio slapped Rin’s hand away, eyes dark. “I don’t want help!”

Rin’s eyes widened with hurt. Yukio couldn’t look at Rin. 

Yukio didn’t deserve a brother like Rin. 

Yukio was weak, so weak that he couldn’t even keep his ugly emotions inside and now he had hurt Rin. It was this type of inner turmoil and hesitance that Yukio knew made him the innate lesser of the two. 

That was probably why their father dotted on Rin more. 

Surly if their positions were reversed, Rin wouldn’t have these dark feelings towards Yukio. He would feel grateful and work to become stronger for himself. 

Yukio tightened his fists inside his gloves. Hands shaking Yukio swore to himself that he would find some way be strong. Stronger than his brother. Yukio would be the one to help Rin, and the one to help himself. 

Competitive blood roaring, Yukio stood up on his own. “I’m going home.” 

Eyes downcast, Rin shrugged. “Do what you want.”

The pitying, yet understanding, look on Rin’s face only made the flame inside Yukio burn colder. 

“Thanks for beating them up,” Yukio said plainly as he walked away, shoulders squared. 

The walk home was cold, but Yukio was unsure if that was because of the setting sun, or the ice running through his fiery veins. Beautiful as the white snow had seemed earlier, it now seemed to mock Yukio with its beautiful simplicity. It was satisfying to walk, the snow crunching under Yukio’s weight. 

Yukio arrived home, sooner than he had expected due to his brisk pace. Composed, Yukio slipped off his boots and put them to the side neatly and the he shed off the bundled layers of clothing he was suffocating in. 

Fujimoto, hearing the footsteps, greeted Yukio. “Back already? Rin’s not with-” the man cut off his own sentence when he saw the look in Yukio’s turquois eyes. 

Appreciating the space, but also feeling infuriated at how open of a book he was, Yukio nodded at his father and walked silently to his room. 

“Parenting is hard,” Fujimoto put a hand on the wall and sighed. 

Laughing, a man from the monastery clapped a hand on Fujimoto’s back. “It’s not like you are raising any ordinary kids!” 

“That’s true,” Fujimoto crossed his arms, his face scrunching as he looked in deep contemplation at something faraway. Then, he not decided to follow Yukio. It was clear that Yukio was suffering, but Fujimoto had to do what he knew was better for the greater good. Plus, there was elsewhere he was needed. 

Opening the door to his room, Yukio slammed it as gracefully as he could, and he could have sworn that the door yelped at the treatment. 

First, Yukio sat on his desk chair, head held high with as much dignity as he could muster. In a few moments, the mask slipped off as Yukio’s face grew red. Burring his head into the crook of his elbow, Yukio cursed. 

“Why am I so weak!” he bit his arm, tears escaping down his face. 

Then, as though sensing his emotions, Yukio felt a familiar presence in the room growing. 

On the side of his desk, a black cube grew. Spinning around, the sound much like a drill, the cube began to take sizeable jumps closer to Yukio, it’s beady red eyes sending a wave of fear down Yukio’s spine. 

Enraged, Yukio slapped the cube with a pen on his desk. “Leave me alone! Go away!” 

The cube moved about a centimetre, a distorted stitched line opening like a mouth and grinning. 

Lightning shooting through Yukio’s veins as fear washed over his mind, Yukio began to curse loudly, slapping erratically at the unmoving, amused cube. 

Painting, Yukio dropped the pencil and fell to the floor, pulling his hair with an unreasonable amount of force. “Why is everything after me!” Yukio’s lips trembled. “I need my brother, but,” hot tears burned Yukio’s eyes, “I don’t want help! Why can’t I be the one protecting him- “ 

The cube fell off the desk and began to hop towards Yukio once more. Yukio screamed a battle cry and lifted his chair, smashing the cube with it in a haze. “Die! Go! Leave!” Yukio sniffed. 

The chair never met the floor, the sturdy cube holding it up with little trouble. It smiled at Yukio. 

Yukio threw the chair at the wall, and gripped his quivering arm hard enough to leave a mark. In a moment of panic, Yukio swung open the door to his room and ran. 

He ran, with no destination in mind, just as he had when he was younger. Yukio ran out of the house, his lungs screaming, but his mind screaming louder. 

The world was cold, but Yukio didn’t notice the way his shoeless feet turned bright red when it contacted the snow. So, Yukio ran his endless run, the feeling of being pursued never leaving him. 

They were coming from him. 

They all were coming after him. 

Yukio was too weak. 

Breathing uneven and tears leaving freezing trails down his pale face, Yukio rounded the corner of an unfamiliar street. The alleyway was dark, which intimated Yukio usually, but he found the darkness safe right now. 

Taking in large breaths of chilly air, Yukio coughed. He felt pathetic, coughing in the dark alley, running away from monsters that didn’t exist. 

Fresh tears stinging his eyes, Yukio sat on the snow-covered ground, and curled into a ball. Now that he was alone, he noticed the cold. 

It was unbearable, the cold seeping in from the snow into his now snow-wet trousers, and the freezing air biting at his tear stained face. Yukio shivered, from the cold, from his anger, from fear. 

Gripping his knees tightly, Yukio knew he had to get up, had to leave this narrow alley and find somewhere warmer, but Yukio couldn’t move. His legs felt numb and they were as strong as twigs. 

Slapping his legs, Yukio felt as though he was drowning. “Stupid legs! I’m going to die because I’m too weak to get up on my own!” Yukio remembered Rin’s smile, that always warm smile, and his welcoming outstretched hand. “I can get up on my own! I want to fight!” 

Yukio commanded his body to move, but the moment he stood, he fell. “It hurts…” Yukio sniffed, his feet beyond red. Shuddering breaths, taken in between chattering teeth, Yukio thought that this was the end. He was going to die of the cold, alone and in the dark. “Can anyone h-hear me!” Yukio screamed. 

There was movement behind him and Yukio’s heart jumped. Craning his neck around, Yukio saw a disfigured shadow. Thinking at first that it was an adult, Yukio cleared the snot running down his nose, but when the silhouette’s outline began to shake as though it were made of paper, Yukio knew it was another monster. 

Yukio yelped. He had never seen a monster this big in all his life. 

Closing his eyes tightly, Yukio braced himself. 

This was the end of the line. His body was numb, and his mind too horrified to think. Yukio would die here, by the hands of a monster, that shouldn’t even be real. 

He wished that he had a chance to properly thank Rin for all the times that he had protected Yukio when Yukio could not save himself. He wished that he could have become something greater, to help heal and save others. He wished that he could have made Fujimoto proud. He wished-

There was a loud band, startling Yukio into a scream, and he fretfully opened his bleary eyes to see what had happened. The person-shaped monster had a hole through his head and it fell back, squirming on the ground until it became one with the shadows. 

“Ugh, it got away again,” a familiar voice commented with irritation. “Fool me twice, will you?”

Heart jumping with relief, Yukio’s head turned faster than a cat’s reflexes. “Father, is that you?!” 

As Yukio thought, Fujimoto was standing behind Yukio. He looked calm, a cigarette placed securely in his mouth. The familiar sight had Yukio brought almost to tears. What Yukio had not expected was there to be a rifle slung over his father’s shoulders. 

“Wait, Yukio?!” Fujimoto’s eyes widened in alarm as he bent down, getting closer to the familiar young voice. 

In the dark, it was hard to make out, but Fujimoto was certain it was Yukio. His completion was rather blue, his lips purple, teeth chattering, eyes red, and trails of tears stained his face. 

Instinctively, Fujimoto held out his arms, and Yukio, with overwhelming joy, clung unto Fujimoto’s neck and was lifted. 

“I-I thought I-…” Yukio wailed, snuggling into his father’s warmth, “was going to die!” 

“You’re as cold as ice, Yukio! I don’t why you’re here, but we need to get you home.” Fujimoto took his scarf and coat off and wrapped Yukio in it, pressing him close. “I know you’re a man of snow, but this is too much!” 

Yukio smiled at that, eyes drooping. “I’m tired.”

“Don’t go to sleep, not yet. Focus on staying awake till we get home,” Fujimoto ordered as he stood up. Yukio nodded, eyes darting to the gun on his father’s back 

Now that the initial elation had faded, Yukio was left with more questions than answers. 

“We’ll talk later,” Fujimoto explained, reading Yukio’s thoughts as the sprinted home. 

Yukio knew he should think more about what just happened, but Yukio was, in all honesty, using all his energy to not fall asleep. Time seemed to move quickly, because Yukio didn’t remember much of the sprint home, but he remembered the warmth of home clearly. 

Fujimoto set Yukio down next to the fireplace, which was already on, and Yukio felt himself drifting to sleep. 

“You kids are going to make me die of a heart attack one day. You can sleep now.” Fujimoto’s approval was like a switch and Yukio’s brain automatically put itself to sleep as his toes warmed up. 

When Yukio awoke, he felt as though the ice layer around his skin had melted off. He was alone in the living room, wrapped in a thick blanked. 

“I’m alive,” Yukio whispered in awe. “I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive.”

Yukio recalled the day. It had started off normal enough. Yukio was going to play in the snow with his brother. Then the bullies came for him. Then the monsters came for Yukio. 

They were gone, Yukio knew, but his body trembled as he recalled the experience. 

Fatigued, Yukio curled into a ball while on his side. “I hate this.” 

Then, Fujimoto entered the room. 

As Yukio made eye contact with his father, Yukio remembered the sound of a gunshot, the monster falling to the ground, and his father with a rifle on his back. 

His father could see monsters and use a gun? 

It didn’t make any sense. 

“Yukio,” Fujimoto said in a fatherly tone, bending down on one knee so that he was closer to Yukio, “come fight with me. You’ll grow strong. Strong enough to protect yourself and Rin.” 

“Me, protect brother?” Yukio gazed up at his father with awe sparkling in his eyes. “Is that possible?” 

“Yes, come with me,” Fujimoto extended a hand, and Yukio took it. “Rin’s in his room sleeping, its night.” 

Yukio had many question hot on his tongue, but his knew to be patient so he quietly followed, eager to get some answers. His father’s words had sounded too good to be true. The forbidden fruit that would solve Yukio’s perils and give Yukio what he truly wanted to know was before him. 

They went into the back of the monastery. Fujimoto produced a key to a door that Yukio never noticed before. 

When the door opened, a cold dank stone staircase revealed itself. Lighting a torch, Fujimoto took Yukio down the stairs. 

Yukio’s heat beat with apprehension at the eerie looking staircase that lead down below. However, Yukio could tell that this was something serious. Something that would be a huge moment in his life. So, Yukio trusted his foster father and went down the stairs; their footsteps echoed audibly as they descended. 

When they reached the bottom, Fujimoto sat on the final step and gestured for Yukio to do the same. 

Took a seat on the cold stone next to Fujimoto and looked at him expectantly, almost bouncing in anticipation. 

The tension was thick enough to break a knife clear in two. 

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” Fujimoto sat tall, “so I’ll let you ask and then I’ll fill in whatever you haven’t asked.” 

“You can see monsters?!” The question flew from Yukio, his tone squeaking. “That thing you shot, I’m sure you shot it, was a monster! Nobody else can see them, I think, and that’s why all the teachers think I’m crazy.” 

Fujimoto put a hand on Yukio’s head and ruffled his hair. In the dim torchlight, Yukio saw the sympathetic smile on Fujimoto’s lips. “I’ve always known you aren’t crazy. Those aren’t exactly monsters, though. They are demons, and they are very real.”

Yukio’s heart sank as he looked around fretfully, but he felt like cheering at the validation of the monsters’ existences. “D-demons?! Those things are demons?” 

“Yes, they are demons.” Fujimoto nodded. “I can see them and everyone at the monastery can see them.” 

“Brother can’t see them?” Yukio’s heart was beating out of his chest as he absorbed the information. “Why can’t normal people see them?” 

“Rin can’t see them. Guess it’s time to tell you everything, then. Yukio, you’ve pestered me before about who your real parents are.” Fujimoto crossed his fingers and laid his chin on the bridge. 

Yukio faltered at the true accusation. “Brother doesn’t care about knowing, but I do. I need to know if there’s something about that makes me… like this.” 

Fujimoto let out a joyless chuckle. “It does have to do with why you can see demons.” 

Yukio took in a deep breath. “I’m ready, tell me everything.” 

There was a tense pause, the tension terse and suffocating.

“Seven years ago, on December 27th, an incident took place which exorcists call, The Blue Night.” 

“Exorcists?” Yukio piped in. 

“People who fight demons, like me, are called exorcists. They are a society, but I’ll talk about that later.” Fujimoto explained. “Going back to what I was saying, The Blue Night was a day that killed many exorcists and changed the world as we see it.” 

Yukio felt his breathing hitch. On his birthday, many people died. His birthday was The Blue Night. “What happened on The Blue Night?” Yukio’s voice was horse. 

“It’s called The Blue Night because the world broke out into blue flames. The blue flames of Satan,” Fujimoto exhaled deeply. Speaking to himself, Fujimoto mumbled, “Though you are young, tonight is the night that your childhood ends.” 

Yukio felt himself hyperventaling. “Satan appeared in our world….” Yukio whispered to himself slowly, trying to make sense of it. “On my birthday?” 

“You and Rin are the product of The Blue Night. You both are Satan’s children. I was sent to kill you when you were born, but I didn’t; instead, I raised you like normal humans.” Fujimoto put a hand on Yukio’s shoulder, Yukio tensed. “I raised you like you were my own two sons.” 

Shoulders high, Yukio replayed to information over and over in his mind, but it refused to click. He was the child of the devil himself and his birth killed thousands of exorcists? “W-w-why are you telling me t-this but not brother?” Yukio questioned, his voice laced with pain and doubt. 

“When you two were born, you as the younger twin, were born frail. As far as we could tell, you didn’t inherent Satan’s flames and are a human, despite your blood. Rin on the other hand, was born clad in blue flames. We sealed his flames in a sword, a sword that is kept in his very basement, called the Koma sword. If that sword were opened, it would release his flames and all his demonic power.” Fujimoto revealed. 

Yukio looked at his shaking palms. There was demon blood, the blood of Satan, flowing through his veins, yet he was human? 

Moreover, Rin had the blue flames of Satan sealed away? 

“Rin can’t see demons because we sealed his power. We want to keep him as far away from the world of exorcists as we can, for as long as possible. You, Yukio, we didn’t think you would be able to see demons, but you clearly can. It makes sense. Either it’s because we never sealed your blood, or you were given a demon imprint from your brother when you were born,” Fujimoto continued to explain. 

“Both of your existences are a secret, but one day, Rin will awaken his power and his life will change. He will be in danger and the world will want him gone and dead,” Fujimoto’s voice was factual. “I may not be able to protect him forever, Yukio. The world will be out to get you. One of you needs to learn to fight. Can you protect Rin for me, when I cannot?” 

Yukio nodded tentatively. “H-how?” 

“Starting tomorrow, I’ll train you to fight demons and become an exorcist. You cannot let Rin know. You will go to school and learn how to fight at the same time,” Fujimoto stood up. “I’m sure this was a lot for you, even though you’ve been suspicious about the world for a long time, since you’ve been able to see demons since birth. Get some rest.” 

Yukio’s throat was dry and he was unable to produce words. He looked at his father, but he wasn’t looking so much at him as he was past him. Behind his fatherly smiles and jibs, there was another life full of secrets that Yukio had never been privy to. 

The truth wasn’t an easy pill. 

Swallowing thickly, Yukio gave a terse nod and walked robotically up the stone stairs. 

Entering his bedroom, he regarded his brother, sprawled over the bed and fast asleep. Yukio looked at him in disbelief. Rin was the inheritor of Satan’s power, yet he peacefully slept with no knowledge of neither the existence of demons nor the truth of his father.

With resolve, Yukio turned away from Rin. “I will learn to fight, I will become strong, and I will be the one to protect us from the world when it comes after you.”

Yukio looked in the mirror, the shadows of his face accentuated in the moonlight. 

Yukio was a regular human, but at the same time, he was not. 

Slumping towards the mirror, Yukio rested his forehead on the mirror. Aqua eyes bore back at him and Yukio wondered if Satan’s flames were a similar colour to his eyes, or were they more like Rin’s?

“I’m the son of Satan,” Yukio spoke, hushed and slow. “I have no power from Satan. I was to die at birth.” Yukio smiled wry at his reflection. “I’m not insane. I will learn how to fight. I will be strong. I will protect brother.” 

Yukio closed his eyes, sitting his back to the mirror. Opening his eyes slowly, he gazed at the moon that watched over him from the window. What star-crossed fate had caused the world to produce Satan’s spawns? Yukio’s birth was, clearly, a tragedy. 

Not exactly a human. Born with the sight of demons.

Not exactly a demon. Born without power. 

“What am I?” Yukio took off his glasses. “What am I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man most father's just have to give their kid's 'the talk' but Fujimoto's got it worse. 
> 
> Exercised-induced- bronchoconstriction = A condition different from asthma but people with asthma can have it. It usually is induced when physical exertion is coupled with dry/cold air. It usually doesn't lead to a full on asthma attack, but it usually leads to coughing for 20min-1h and the chest feels tight. Yukio was SUPPOSED to canonically have asthma but they didn't give it to him because then it wouldn't work with his exorcistness. So I gave him this instead because it interferes a lot less. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. I tried to emphasize that Yukio wants to help and protect Rin, but ALSO wants to feel proud and strong of himself for once in his life. WOWZA HE CAN FEEL MORE THAN ONE EMOTION! Character's sure are allowed to do that...


	4. Chapter 4

A shiver shook through Yukio as he slumped down next to a particularly lone tree atop a snow blanketed hill. The snow had stopped its relentless decent and left a vacuum of trepidation in its wake. Apprehension stung the wind as Yukio grabbed his hand tightly.

 

The shaking wouldn’t stop.

 

Biting his dry lips hard enough to draw blood, Yukio focused on the dry taste of cold iron in his mouth. Yet, despite his attempts at distraction, the world continued to burn a blindingly vivid shade.

 

Moonlight fell like gentle ocean waves over the snow coloured lands, yet it all seemed much too bright. Even the stars that had appeared in the sky seemed to glimmer with distain.

Yukio grimaced, taking the gun that he always carried with him out. It was too heavy, the weight of the gun, the eyes of the moon, and the judgement of the stars.

 

The gun’s blackness pulled Yukio back into his thoughts, like a shadowy demon that an innocent child might have thought lurked under their bed.

 

The stars seemed to laugh at Yukio.

 

-

 

Yukio had been 7 when Shiro Fujimoto had brought Yukio to True Cross for the first time; it was not too long after Yukio had found out some vague details about the nature of his birth from his foster father. Generally, Yukio would say the initial experience was rather liberating and pleasant. A playground where he wasn’t dubbed as insane.

 

Firstly, Yukio had been eager to see the world of exorcists. With a child’s eyes, Yukio devoured the new sights and smells of True Cross. Unbeknownst to Yukio, Fujimoto had gone out of his way to ensure that no other exorcists were aware of Yukio’s arrival, other than Mephisto.

 

The flamboyant demon greeted Yukio, with all his theatrics, and teased him like an older brother. Yukio had sensed Mephisto’s power, and that his motives were muddled, and had been wary of him, much to Mephisto’s amusement. Fujimoto, however, was not amused and shooed Mephisto away after Mephisto had given the pair what he had come to give.

 

The given item in question being a privet area where Yukio could train in peace and solitude.

 

So, Yukio had learned the basics of self-defence and exorcism, isolated from the rest of The Order. Yukio had decided to focus on firearms, the memory of Fujimoto using them to rescue Yukio from the alleyway still fresh in his mind. At first, the noises and aggression of the weapon had frightened Yukio, but Fujimoto had anticipated as much and placed Yukio against demons. The fear and urgency taught Yukio to get over his fears quickly.

 

Fujimoto and Yukio’s relationship altered. Even when Yukio wasn’t training, he found that the soft and fond smiles that he’d received when younger tapered away in favour of Rin. Yukio brushed off his envy. He was not a child anymore, and Fujimoto looked at him like a young man. That was what Yukio was, wasn’t it?

 

No child learned to adjust to the whip and bang of a gun, make decisions for the greater good, and shoulder the burden of what his murky future would hold. Yukio should be proud of his short childhood, he told himself. The glint in his eyes no longer held the wonder of a fawn; or so Yukio would like to think.

 

Yukio thought he had adjusted to his new rhythm in life. Living as a normal school-boy by day and training with his foster father by night. Although Yukio still had many questions about himself, he was happy with the progress he was making and the power he was gaining.  

 

However, when Yukio was 9, he learned that up until then, he had still been sheltered. Once again, Yukio was unsure of who he was.

 

On Yukio’s 9th birthday, Rin and he, well mostly Rin, had made a cake for Fujimoto.

 

“Why are you giving me a cake for your birthday?” Fujimoto sighed and patted Rin’s head. “It’s supposed to be the other way around.”

 

Rin crossed his arms rebelliously. “What, are you not going to take it then!”

 

“Brother wanted to give it to you as a thank you, for taking us in and taking care of us,” Yukio clarified, pushing up his glasses. “Of course, I give you my thanks as well… for raising and taking care of us.” The words were thick on Yukio’s tongue as Fujimoto read the underlining meaning of ‘thanks for not killing us when we were born.’

 

“Yeah thanks and that stuff!” Rin put the cake on the table beside Fujimoto. “Although you don’t always make the best dad, old man!”

 

“How do you know our real dad is any better?” A sardonic sweet smile graced Yukio’s lips, but his tone was light and teasing. Irony was a playful mistress that Yukio enjoyed lately.

 

Rin shrugged. “I don’t really care to know. It doesn’t matter to me. Doesn’t make our old man any better though!”

 

Fujimoto smiled warmly. “Twins are such a handful. Thank you, Rin, Yukio.”

 

A bitter taste filled Yukio’s mouth as Fujimoto smiled kindly at Rin. If Rin knew who their real father was, maybe then he would understand Yukio’s persistence about the nature of their birth. Or maybe, Rin still wouldn’t care. Yukio had always been more interested in knowing their origins. Then again, Rin wasn’t the one born with the sight of monsters decorating his vision.  Rin wasn’t the one who had each aspect of his youth taken away from him on fates agenda. Yukio thought it was narrow minded. There was a world of uncovered truths, and it all brushed over Rin’s head.

 

However, Rin was the one born to inherit Satan’s flames.

 

Did Fujimoto enjoy playing house with Rin?

 

“Uh,” Rin blushed at the praise, “this was supposed to be a thank you, for you. Anyways, I gotta go. To do, um, homework! Yeah! Catch you later!” Rin bolted out the door, running in a direction clearly away from his room, where his unfinished homework was.

 

Yukio shook his head and sighed. “He’s probably going off to play soccer again. I know he wants to make friends with those kids, but they always end up fighting and then Rin gets hurt. Did he think we would believe he was going to do homework? He’s not a good liar.”

 

Fujimoto gestured for Yukio to take the seat beside him and Yukio complied. “Then you’ll patch him up, don’t you?”

 

Yukio grinned, looking out into to where in particular. Despite his thoughts towards Rin, Yukio enjoyed his smile just as much as it made his heart hurt. He wanted to protect him just as much as he wanted to surpass his innate strength of character. “I get to apply your teachings and practices even in this side of my life.”

 

“About the ‘other side’ of your life, if that’s what you’re calling it now,” Fujimoto put a hand on Yukio’s shoulders. Underneath his hand, Fujimoto felt muscle that had not been there before and muscle that one would not expect a child of only 9 years of have. In two short years, Yukio had become stronger.

 

But Fujimoto wondered if it would be enough.

 

“Yes, is something wrong?” Yukio’s eyes grew dimmer, alert and cautious. “I thought I was progressing well.”

 

“You are,” Fujimoto responded, “that’s what this is about. I think you’re ready to start going to actual classes, with other training students. They will be older than you, but you are skilled enough to hold your own ground better than any of them now.”

 

Yukio’s eyes widened in alarm and he stood up from his chair, his seat moving back audibly at the force. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to work with other exorcists because if they found out that the son of Satan is alive, it would put Rin and I in danger. Aren’t we supposed to be a secret!?”

 

Fujimoto’s face grew grave. “You were supposed to be a secret, but now you are not. The higher-ups found out about the training area, and about you. Mephisto told them that you are harmless and didn’t inherit the flames. They will allow you to train properly, but under watch.”

 

Heart beating quicker, Yukio controlled his breathing. Control, control instincts, override it with logic. “You said I am not a secret anymore, but what of Rin? Is he still a secret?”

 

Dropping his voice low, Fujimoto met Yukio’s eyes, “No, the Vatican is aware of Rin too, but they also know his power is sealed. They said that they would decide his fate when and if his power ever awakens.”

 

Sitting back down, Yukio ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, I understand. I am surprised about their decision, honestly, but I have to accept it.” Yukio wouldn’t let them hurt Rin if it ever came to that. That was part of the reason Yukio was training so hard, after all.  

 

“The Vatican is more complicated than it seems and their agenda is much more nuanced. If the day comes when Rin awakens, I need you and Mephisto to look out for him and make sure he doesn’t end up dead.” Fujimoto stood. “Tomorrow, you will be introduced to the world of exorcists formally. Remember, some do not agree with the Vatican and may try to kill you when I am not around.”

 

“Is Rin safe?” Yukio bit his thumb. “The people who don’t like us, will they come after him?”

 

“He’s well protected here,” Fujimoto stretched. “Mephisto’s keeping an eye on here too. Anyways, tomorrow morning, we leave at 5, be ready.”

 

-

 

The next morning Yukio awoke, groggy, but silent as to not wake Rin. It smelled of fresh morning and cold air and Yukio took in the scent, which stirred up a sense of monotony. On auto-polite, Yukio prepared for the day ahead.

 

Arriving at True Cross, a beautiful building in Yukio’s eyes, he was greeted by a dog that he knew to be Mephisto. Puttering around Fujimoto’s leg, the latter of which shook his leg with a curt ‘buzz off,’ the dog grinned, somehow, and turned into a man.

 

“Yukio, my baby baby brother, today you start school with the big kiddos. As such,” the man tapped his hat and a schedule appeared, “here is your timetable. Behave, alright. Now, as the principal, I must be off.” Mephisto stalked around Yukio in circles as he spoke, his arms moving theatrically. As soon as he had come, he was off much the same.

 

Yukio remembered the schedule of his first year. He was in his father’s homeroom, which was to be expected, and had an assortment of classes which he had been studying in privet with his father for the past two years.

 

Fujimoto entered the class first, telling Yukio to advertise as little as possible about their relation and warning him once more to keep his eyes open for danger.

 

Entering the class himself, Yukio felt the eyes on him. Most were surprised, some irritated, and a few comical, at the young man’s entrance. While Yukio had bulk and a hardness to his face that may be uncharacteristic for someone of his age, he was still short and was untouched by marks of grown.

 

In fact, a particularly gruff woman had stood up and scolded the system for allowing a child to partake in the class. Yukio brushed her off with a smile, telling her that he was qualified, but the thought was appreciated. The class looked apprehensive, but Fujimoto continued his lecture and introduction, not once looking at Yukio.

 

For the next for months, class progressed fine. Yukio didn’t get along too well with his classmates, always professional and keeping a wall between them with a smile. They shouldn’t get to know him, Yukio thought. They were too different from him; their lives so unlike his, and their age a barrier. Quickly, Yukio had risen above his class, added by the years of prior knowledge he had gained.

 

However, Yukio had noticed the unwanted attention of his teachers and staff that he passed by in the halls. They regarded Yukio with distain and with a sense of malice. Biting his lip as they passed by, Yukio knew that they knew what he was. It mattered not to Yukio. They weren’t his trusted allies just because they were his teachers. Nobody here was. That was how life was for Yukio.

 

Only his father, Yukio felt he could trust.

 

On one day, Yukio overheard his teacher talking.

 

“That boy is talented, it is a pity he is the devil’s spawn.”

 

“Not even that, he has no power. His brother does, but he doesn’t. That boy isn’t human, nor is he demon. He is irrelevant.”

 

“True, true. He puts much work in, but he’s just an armor for the true weapon. A side character to the protagonist.”

 

“Pity, pity that he’ll never truly be one of us, or one of them. He means nothing. Honestly, his existence makes no sense. There’s no role for him anywhere. A prelude to the main event. If we use him right, maybe we can get to his brother when the time comes.”

 

Yukio’s heart hammered through his veins as he pressed his back against the wall. Their words made sense. What was Yukio doing here? The other day he had trained till he passed out, arriving at his regular school the next day, pretending everything was fine. He’d shed blood, pushed away companionship, for what?

 

To protect his brother. To grow himself.

 

But what of himself? He sacrificed his soul for his life, yet was he to be a throw away when the time came?

 

Shuddering, Yukio decided that it may be true. He was not an honourable solider of The Order, nor was he a weapon for humanity. There was no place for him. Yet, Yukio knew he should be grateful that he had not been marked with demon blood. Still, Yukio flexed his fingers and held his shaking hands. Was it wrong to want to have a place? A reason for living other than to be a shield for the true masterpiece?

 

Worthless. Worthless. As always.

 

He was a selfish person indeed. An innate flaw. Rin would have a hard life, Yukio told himself as he came home to his father patting Rin on the back. He would protect Rin, Yukio recited to himself like a mantra as his blood trickled down on his face from a mission. He’d become strong, that’s all he needed to do, Yukio repeated as he heaved a breath. For himself as much as for Rin. His brother was his purpose, as much as his leash. Maybe, if there wasn’t a place for him, among the too innocent children, or the lying adults, he’d carve it himself with his own power.

 

Love, hate. Confidence, doubt.

 

“Stop thinking about it so much, squirt. You can’t help that you’re no one.” Shura said nonchalantly as she patted his head. “Can’t help that when the adults look at you, there not really looking at you, unless with hate. You’re just born weird!”

 

Yukio ignored her teasing. She enjoyed his anger at times. Revenge for taking the place beside Fujimoto that she wanted to have. A weird sense of joy that came from the destruction of someone you inherently don’t like.

 

Yukio never held the treatment against her, looking back at it. They were both in dark places.

 

Later that week, the teacher announced that Yukio was passing at the top of the class. Yukio smiled at the claps, bowing bashfully, as he looked around at his teachers. Then, Yukio realized, that none of them were truly looking at him, but through him.

 

Yukio sat down and stared off into the distance. Was this what he was supposed to be doing? If Rin was supposed to be a great hero, or villain, what was Yukio to be? The clapping died down, but Yukio’s attention did not return to the class. The thought kept itching through his skin. They clawed in his mind.

 

_Who am I? Who Am I? What am I?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not 100% happy with how it turned out and I didn't edit this one as much, but with the last chapter that just came out, I wanted to post this. Also as for Shura, I don't think they have a bad relationship or anything, but given her history with Fujimoto, I can see some initial badblood between the two.

**Author's Note:**

> Good time to upload this, considering the recent chapters. 
> 
> Yukio isn't a perfect person, but I find him to be one of the most human character's I've ever seen. Hit me up if you want to meta analyze this boy. 
> 
> Chapters will be longer, but this is more of a prologue of sorts?


End file.
